


Shield Me

by IBrokeBad



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Best Friends Time, Confused Captain America, F/M, Natasha is a badass, Steve Rogers is a National Treasure Damnit, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBrokeBad/pseuds/IBrokeBad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is a mystery. Bucky's brain is scrambled. Steve doesn't think being Captain America will be enough to save them both this time. Meanwhile S.H.I.E.L.D is quickly crumbling beneath them as relationships are tested, stretched thin, and set on fire. Lies and secrets pile higher and higher as Steve fights for the only man from his past and the woman who could be his future. It only gets more complicated when Steve discovers that they already know each other. And he doesn't like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello, My Name Is Steve

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Captain America or the Avengers!

 

It's him. It has to be. Those are his dark blue eyes, waiting for him. He is wearing the red, white, and blue, and a cautiousness about his face. Beside him is the other target. The red head. She stands so closely that it's unclear who is protecting who. Either way, they both have to die. He can't stop himself. He's a good soldier. The Black Widow can't save herself. Captain America can't save himself. There is nothing that can be done.

The Winter Soldier just watches them a moment longer, wondering if he can make it painless.

>>>

 

"How many times do you think you've saved my life, Rogers?"

Steve glances at her aloof face, eyebrows raised. "Why? So you know when you can stop owing me?" He jokes.

Natasha feigns offense. "Captain, you dare suggest that I'm helping you for reasons other than out of the goodness of my heart?"

He chuckles and says, "I suppose I am."

"Well, do you have an answer?"

He thinks about it for a second, "I can remember at least four." He looks at her again modestly, as if he's embarrassed for having counted. She has a thoughtful expression on her face as they stand on the dark, empty pier. The only light source is from a faint lamp post standing several yards away, allowing the shadows to obscure them.

She peers around the dock. "You think your lead was telling the truth?"

"My lead? This was yours, remember? I distinctly remember you being the one to interrogate the poor guy. I do not approve of your methods by the way."

"It gets the job done." She says breezily. She looks thoughtful before asking, "So do you ever think that saving my life wasn't worth it?"

"What? Why would-?"

She shushes him. "I don't mean it in a self-deprecating way." She looks at him seriously, "I'm talking about the sacrifices you make. I mean, is this what you want for your life? You get a second chance out of that ice and you want to use it to keep working for S.H.I.E.L.D?" Her red hair glistens in the dim lighting as he ponders her words. "So I'm asking you, in all honesty, was saving my life worth it?"

"They'd kill you for talking like this, you know," Steve says, bracing his shield as he squints into the distance. His frame is as heroic as can be, strong and dignified.

"Don't worry about that," she says impatiently. "Now stop avoiding-"

She stops short and whips around to look for the source of a sudden creak. The only sound left now is the soft breath of the Captain, whose training In stealth is nowhere near as thorough as the Widow's.

The moment is too short, however, and a bullet whizzes past Natasha's head. She ducks much faster than the bullet passes, and the Captain holds up his shield, covering them both.

"I told you this would be a trap!" Steve hisses as Natasha curses in Russian.

"It's not a trap, it's him," she says adamantly as she pulls a handgun from somewhere on her person. "Damnit, I should have seen him coming, I knew I heard. . ."

But Steve stops listening and lowers his shield, "BUCKY!" He calls, pure blue eyes staring hopefully into the darkness.

"Rogers! Get down!" Natasha says through gritted teeth, lines of worry straining her forehead.

Ignoring her, Steve begins to run towards the source of the gunfire. More Russian expletives escape her lips as she bounds after him, boots thudding rhythmically against the wooden dock. Steve makes a sharp turn into an alleyway, his shield ringing as he recklessly knocks into a garbage bin.

"Bucky!"

"Keep it down, Captain," Natasha says as she catches up with him. They slow to a jog as Steve glances around.

"I lost him," he mutters.

"What the hell is wrong with you? He could've-"

"It was Bucky, he wouldn't have killed me," Steve says absently.

"But he would have hurt you. That's how he was programmed. Trust me, if they can control his brain. . ." she sighs as they continue searching their surroundings for a trace of the Winter Soldier. "Then he's going to have a rough time fighting it off."

Steve glances at Natasha curiously before returning to the task at hand. "He did once."

Natasha doesn't reply as she turns towards the shadows. Her body stiffens.

"What is it?" Steve aske, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at Natasha's abrupt tension. He'd learned a long time ago what that meant.

"Show yourself, Soldier." She says, gun pointed at a dark figure that takes Steve several seconds to spot.

Steve's eyes widen as Bucky emerges from the dark, his brown hair as unruly as when he last saw him. His suit is as black as Natasha's, nearly blending back into the shadows. His eyes are dead. Empty. In one hand is a pistol, rattling in his grasp, arm shaking.

"Bucky." Steve says. The other man's eyes snap up to look at him.

"That is not my name." He says blandly, glaring. But his hard demeanor is betrayed by the slight tremor in his left hand.

"You don't want to kill us, Bucky," Steve says. Natasha leans forward slightly, as if to ready herself to attack. Her eyes dart between the man's eyes and hands, the two dead giveaways of a soldier."We came here to help you."

Bucky's eyes travel over to Natasha. "She's not here to help me."

"She's here as a favor to me," Steve says, extending his arm in her direction to signal her to cool it. She frowns but backs up a bit. "She won't hurt you because I ordered her not to." He gives her a pointed look. She huffs softly.

Bucky appears to be strongly conflicted, his face morphing between extreme pain and his usual deadpan. His silver arm shimmers in the moonlight. There is a long, strained pause when finally he asks in a voice so human that it surprises Steve,"Who are you?"

"I'm your friend," Steve says. "Bucky-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" He roars, jaw clenched.

"Then what should I call you?!" Steve demands, stepping closer to him. "Do you even know your name?" Steve ignores Natasha's protests as he moves closer. "Do you even know why you need to kill me?"

Bucky is shaking his head vigorously, "Stop talking, STOP TALKING-!"

"Your name is James Buchanon Barnes, and you are my best friend. You were taken away from me!" Steve is yelling now, losing control of the authoritative leader he is with Natasha.

Bucky just stares at him with a troubled expression. His dark eyebrows slant towards each other, his mouth in a tight frown. "I-I have to kill you."

"No, you don't." Steve says.

Suddenly Bucky raises his gun and presses the end of it against Steve's chest. "I do."

Steve is unphased aside from only minor disappointment. He'd never expected Bucky to welcome this information with open arms.

"Drop the gun. NOW." Natasha orders, putting her own gun against Bucky's temple so fast that it startles both men. Steve sees his best friend's eyes flicker over to Natasha and wonders exactly what he sees, because a look of sudden recognition passes through him.

"I know you." He whispers. Natasha pushes the gun harder against his head.

"Drop it!" She says.

"Red hair. . ." He says distantly.

Steve looks utterly befuddled at this point, and Natasha bashes her gun against the side of Bucky's head. He keels over. She punches him one more time across the face and he's out.

"What the hell was that for?" Steve shouts, moving to collect Bucky from the ground.

"He was confused. I took advantage of it." She shrugs. "We would never have been able to take him in otherwise."

Steve throws the limp body over his shoulder and narrows his eyes at Natasha. "He said he knew you."

She scoffs. "Well, he doesn't."

"Nat-"

"He's been brainwashed, Rogers. Multiple times. There had to have been some redhead besides me that he vaguely recalls from his jumbled memories."

There is a pause. Steve thinks at first that Bucky had just recognized her from the past few instances where he'd tried to kill them. But the way he'd said that he KNEW her. It's as if he'd been feeling actual emotions upon seeing her. And her violent reaction had done nothing to sooth his suspicions.

Natasha laughs loudly, if loud is ever a possibility for her.

"What?"

"You look like a child who got left out." She says.

"I don't like people who lie to me," he says.

"Then we shouldn't be friends, Rogers." Natasha says as they make their way to their car. Crickets chirp rhythmically along with their soft footsteps. "Maybe you and Fury would be better suited."

He rolls his eyes but smiles back at her, used to her dry sense of humor. He knows that she lies to him. Often. But he also trusts her with his life, if that makes any sense. She's proven herself to him more times than he can count.

In the back of his mind, he knows she has secrets. Her past is like a black hole a to him, deep and mysterious. Like the harder he'd search the more lost he'd get.

But he respects her privacy. He tries to. But Bucky's reaction to her had only reminded him of how little he knows about her. Steve wonders if their friendship can endure so much secrecy. If they're even friends at all.

>>>

 

His sticky eyelids peel open.

. . . The light is too bright.

There is a window. A big window.

So many lights.

Everything is a blur as he glances around. He closes his eyes again, his head throbbing. His left arm clinks against something.

"Bucky?" It is a hesitant voice. A familiar voice.

"This is James Buchanon?" Comes a rather deep voice. "Son of Barnes?"

"Yes," the familiar voice says.

Someone gently places a hand on his forehead, then lifts one of his eyelids open. After a brief flash of light, he sees a kind looking man leaning over him. His black hair is ruffled and spectacles sit crookedly on the bridge of his nose.

"He seems stable." The man says to someone behind him. Bucky glances around him to see Captain America. He's wearing civilian attire and is standing worriedly with his arms crossed.

"Bucky?" He says when he realizes that he's awake. "This is Dr. Bruce Banner, a friend of mine."

"Hello," Banner smiles and gives him a little wave.

"And I am Thor Odinson," Another large man booms. His armor looks much heavier than any American equipment. He claps a hand onto Bucky's shoulder."It is an honor to meet you, friend of Steven."

Bucky blinks. He tries to remember how he got there.

"The drugs've drained out of your system. You're probably a little confused after that bout of withdrawal." Banner says slowly.

"I remember you," Bucky says, turning to Steve. "And the girl. . ."

"What do you remember?" Steve asks.

"Don't strain him," Banner says when Bucky struggles to respond. "He probably doesn't r-"

"I am most interested in the Warrior of Winter's arm." Thor says. "Is it as strong as Mjolnir?"

Steve nods, "And my shield."

"You must christen your shield with a most glorious name, Steven! Simply referring to it as a 'shield' is growing rather mundane-"

"Just keep resting, James, okay?" Banner says.

"-perhaps an Asgardian namesake. Your Midgardian ones always fail to intimidate-"

Bucky opens his mouth to speak.

"Thor, I'm pretty sure parading around with an Asgardian named shield defeats the purpose of being Captain America." Bruce comments as he packs up his medical supplies.

Bucky tries again-

"I am not naming my shield, it's perfectly-"

There is a crash as a glass falls to the floor, drink splashing everywhere. Bucky had moved his arm and collided with it. Red splotches seep into the white fibers. The room falls silent.

"That's what I get for leaving my drink next to Frankenstein," a man says as he steps into the room.

The man is wearing a suit that makes everyone in the room look horribly unwealthy in comparison, and struts in as if he owns half of the planet. He has brown hair and a clean mustache that only seems to accentuate the sharpness of his personality.

"Bucky, this is Tony Stark. You might remember his father. . ." Steve says with an uncertain expression on his face.

"Dr. Banner and I are working on something for that noggin of yours." Tony says with a slight smile. "It's a bit scrambled in there."

Something in Bucky clicks, and he feels like killing him. He needs to. Captain America has to die. Agent Romanoff has to die. His arm flails.

"He's having a seizure," he hears Banner say, urgently pulling things back out of his bag. He feels hands on him as he twitches aggressively. Something pierces his skin.

Slowly, Bucky passes out of consciousness.


	2. Brainwash Is A Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter:)

Steve sits at Bucky's bedside all night. At dawn, when he shows no sign of waking anytime soon, Bruce forces Steve to get something to eat, reassuring him repeatedly that he would notify him immediately in the event of Bucky's consciousness.

Now he sits at the tower's kitchen island. It's about two-thirty in the morning. Steve can faintly hear Thor's monstrous snores a few floors up. Distant clinking and tapping comes from the direction of Stark's lab.

"How is he?"

Steve jumps and whirls around. Clint is standing by the fridge, eyeing him expectantly.

"Do you have to sneak around all the time?" Steve asks, half irritated, half relieved. Working with S.H.I.E.L.D always has him on edge.

Clint shrugs, "Habit." He's dressed in his archer's uniform and has darkness under his eyes. He yanks open the refrigerator and peers inside, most likely in search of something to ease his constant malnourishment due to months on the job.

"You just get back from a mission?" Steve asks, picking at his meal.

Clint nods as he reaches for the orange juice, "Bosnia." He says, pushing various leftovers aside and nodding towards Bucky's room, "I hear that I missed a lot."

"Well, he seems pretty stable," Steve replies. "Hopefully he'll recover quickly so we can catch the creeps doing this to him." He looks at Clint as he sits down across from him. His movements are tired and slow. Well, as slow as Hawkeye, the master assassin, can ever be. "Where's Natasha? I haven't seen her since we got back last night."

"Work," says Clint.

Steve lowers his sandy eyebrows, "Why don't you two go together anymore?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D needs more people than they have, I guess," he responds.

Steve watches Clint warily as the man sips his drink. "Agent Barton, I don't like being lied to."

Clint puts down his glass and raises an eyebrow at him. "You think I'm lying?"

Steve says, "I know you're lying."

After a pause and a brief staring contest, Clint snorts and says, "Some spy I make." Then he sighs and leans back in his chair. "Nat's been busy with some personal issues lately."

"Personal issues?" Steve repeats. The prospect bothers him more than he realizes. Never has she even hinted that she's troubled. In fact, she never communicates how she feels to him. Ever. And he never asks. A nagging feeling in his gut reminds him that their friendship isn't really a normal one, and that he shouldn't be upset by this. But there the feeling is, poking at him like a child poking his parent, reminding them that there's something they need to take care of. Steve frowns thoughtfully.

"Don't take it personally, Cap." Clint says with a knowing smile. "She hates feeling like a sob story."

"It's that bad?" Steve asks, concern instantly sprinting laps in his brain, frantically rummaging through his memories for clues on Agent Romanoff's past that she might have let past her guard. The implication of the things Natasha might have done makes Steve suddenly feel protective. He knows she can easily protect herself, but he's an old fashioned man. If she was put in such bad situations as people have suggested, he wants to find whoever introduced Natasha to this life and tell them that that isn't how a lady should live.

Clint's mouth is grim. "It really isn't my place to-"

"But you know her, right?" Steve asks suddenly. "You really know her as a person? Not just as an agent?"

"She's been my friend for a long time." Clint answers simply.

"And you trust her?"

"With my life."

"And is that enough?" Steve asks. "Natasha and I, we've been through a lot together. Not like you two, but a lot. I could even say she knows me better than anyone else alive right now besides Bucky. But I don't think I know anything about her outside of work."

"So what are you saying? You don't trust her?"

Steve shakes his head, "I'm asking if it's possible to be friends with someone you barely know." He sighs. "It's always been about work with us. I want her to feel like I'm her friend."

"Listen, Cap," Clint says. "Nat cares about you. A lot. She wants you to be happy. That's all that you need to know."

Before Steve can put any more thought into it, his heartrate skyrockets as an alarming roar shakes the tower.

Leaping into adrenaline mode, both Steve and Clint bound off of their seats and towards the noise in true superhero fashion. It's coming from Bucky's room. The walls shiver as something very solid thuds against it. They hear another deafening roar before Tony joins them, fully clad in his iron.

"What's going on?" He asks. "I heard Bruce."

Steve beckons to the bedroom door leading to where he'd left Bruce and Bucky. Thor runs towards them half a second later, hammer in hand. The four of them burst through the door.

The bed is crushed and Bucky is on the floor. Bruce is fully green. He's standing over Bucky with one hand over his body. Steve is relieved to see that he had restrained himself from crushing him. The enormous green fingers twitch as Bucky struggles madly. He's flailing the little that he can and is screaming as loud as he seems capable in his condition.

"JUST LET ME KILL THEM! JUST LET ME KILL THEM!"

"Bucky, calm down!" Steve says approaching slowly.

"Good call, Blondie, that'll help," Stark remarks. Steve shoots him a glare.

"Have the drugs not yet left his body?" Thor asks loudly over the maniacal shouts.

"Yeah, come on, Doc, I thought you said he peed it out already," Stark says. The beast grunts at him. The team had learned a long time ago that Tony is the only one that can get away with talking to the Hulk like that.

"Bucky, calm down," Steve repeats. Bucky's eyes land on Steve and it's as if the wick of an explosive had been lit. He lurches toward him, somehow wriggling through the Hulk's gigantic fingers. A punch lands firmly on Steve's face with a smack before the Hulk snatches him up again, whipping him back like a towel. Steve recoils slightly while Bucky starts bellowing even louder.

"YOU! YOU MUST DIE! SHE MUST DIE-"

"Yes, yes, everyone must die," Tony rolls his eyes then grabs a syringe from Banner's fallen medical kit. "Time to go back to sleep."

Bucky increases his volume as Tony comes closer, needle in hand. It pierces his skin yet again, and within moments he's out. Bruce slowly returns to his normal form, naked as a newborn. It's unclear when they'd all become accustomed to this.

"He just woke up and attacked me, screaming about how he needed to kill his targets before it was too late." He says, gathering the remains of his clothes in attempt to create some semblance of modesty. "I've heard of cases like this. Not only was he heavily drugged, but he most likely was subjected to electric shock."

"And his bosses gave him a deadline," Clint says with a scowl. Brainwashing is a testy subject for him. "Bastards."

"And his targets are Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff?" Thor asks uneasily. "Perhaps you must stay away from him, Steven."

"I second that," Tony says lightly, ignoring Steve's impetuous expression. "I can't have a national treasure dying in my home."

"He won't kill me," Steve says, assuming that Tony is referring to him. Tony's normal nonchalance is swiftly replaced by a grimace.

"I'm not kidding, Rogers. I'm not risking your life."

"I can handle myself." Steve rebuffs.

"Oh, really?" Tony asks, temper rising slightly, "Because Natasha told me that last year you were almost beaten to death by him." He jabs a finger accusingly in the unconscious Bucky's direction.

"But he didn't." Steve says. He wonders momentarily why Natasha would tell Tony. "He saved me from drowning!"

"We're not risking it." says Tony, eyes threatening. "Or so help me I will kill you myself."

Before Steve can argue, Bruce speaks up, "Please, Steve, just until we find a way to get his mind back in order. You'll do nothing but trigger him."

Steve's teeth grind together in frustration, but he gives Banner a curt nod. He glances at Bucky, then tosses Stark one last icy stare before he storms out of the room.

"You are a good friend, Anthony" Thor says, patting Tony on the back.

"No, I'm not." He glances at Thor with a quick smirk.

Thor chuckles softly. "Don't worry, I won't tell."


	3. Mr. Perfect

"Goddamn technology!"

Steve hears Agent Barton snicker at him on the other end of the device that he is attempting to stick into his ear. It isn't the first time that Steve had used comms, but these are much more advanced than what he's used to. Stark had redesigned them for each individual member of the team. Captain America's is dark blue, decorated with a lone white star.

"That's what you get for being so squirmy when I was getting your ear mold," he hears Tony say.

"I'm sorry, I'm not very fond of plaster getting poured into my ear canal," Steve says, finally finding a good way to settle the earpiece. "Location?"

"West entrance, you take the east. Barton takes the main entrance." Stark says. "No surprises. Please. For the love of God."

"Got it," both Clint and Steve respond. Steve had given Tony control over this mission, thinking it best not to be in charge when emotionally involved. That's the kind of thing that gets soldiers killed.

Steve straightens his tie and walks into the building. This is his first not so 'undercover' operation. The three of them, while doing this Avengers PR event, had been tipped off that a person they suspect to be associated in Bucky's employment is to attend. He's an English General who had been spotted with the same Germans that Steve knows are connected to Hydra. It's a long shot, but it's a chance.

Banner decides to sit this one out while Thor is back in Asgard dealing with a Loki issue. Natasha is still gone. She had been for three months now. Bucky is still kept solitary, with Doctor Banner taking care of him. He hadn't had many episodes after that night, and is actually speaking with Bruce every now and then. The conversations haven't been of any significance, but it means a lot to Steve that he's getting better. Meanwhile, Steve is working hard to track down the scientists who experimented on Bucky.

The party that they're attending is meant to commemorate those lost in the Battle of New York just two years ago. Men and women are dressed to the nines. Everything is shining and glittering. They walk about at a leisurely pace, so not to draw more attention than they already do, occasionally making conversation with a guest or two. After about an hour of meaningless chatter, Steve grows discouraged.

"Does anyone see him?" Steve asks quietly, glancing around the crowded room.

"Negative," Stark mutters.

"Barton?" Steve prompts.

"Hello, it's an honor to meet you, General." They hear Clint say distantly. "I'm glad you decided to come after all, I heard you were having doubts."

"Is it him?" Steve freezes.

"Rogers, don't." Stark snaps. "I repeat: stay where you are, Rogers."

But Steve is already moving towards the main entrance at an alarming speed. He bumps guests out of the way rather forcefully, while at the very least apologizing as he went. He is Captain America after all.

"Rogers, you are becoming one patriotic pain in the ass," Tony sighs sharply as he, too, pushes through the tight crowd towards Barton, though not as politely. Both he and Steve keep their distance when they finally have them in sight.

"So, how long are you in New York?" Clint asks with a broad grin.

"Just tonight," General Parks says. He is wearing his uniform proudly, chin tilted upwards. "It is a lovely city, indeed."

"It is." Clint agrees, more amiably than Steve has ever heard him. "But everyone's always busy. There's never any peace."

"That holds true for the rest of the world too, Agent, " Parks says.

Clint laughs. "Very true, General. So what are you working on at the moment?"

"No projects currently, but I am interested in looking into new advancements in the military." He answers. His drink rests in his hands as he speaks. "It is extraordinary how many doors your Captain America has opened since they found him."

"Any doors worth walking through?" Clint asks, taking a sip of his drink.

Ignoring the question, he says, "It must be frightening for you, Agent, to be so exposed. All those years undercover for you and-what was her name? Romanoff?" He smiles. "And one event unravels it all."

"It's actually quite freeing." says Clint seamlessly.

"Is it? Because I've come across some rather disturbing information about you both that I'm sure you'd rather have kept away from the public."

"Most people have disturbing information, General," Clint says. "It's just a matter of who you're hiding it from."

"So, in your case, everyone?"

"Actually, in my case, just people like you-" Clint cuts off and snatches the General too quickly for either Steve or Tony to react. Steve's eyes are too slow to catch it, but within three seconds, Clint had rendered Parks unconscious. Gracefully and with such believable earnest that Steve is flabbergasted, Clint carries the man through the party, somehow leaving people with the impression that Parks had fallen ill due to heavy drinking. "The poor dear, the same thing happened to him at the Save The Animals Charity," one woman comments, tsking.

When he reaches the back room, Steve and Tony are already there.

"What the hell happened to 'no surprises'?" Tony asks as Clint drops the body none to gently onto the floor.

"He wasn't going to cooperate, I could tell," Clint says with a wave of the hand. "Don't worry about it, I'll interrogate him, then we can zap his memory with one of Fury's gadget things."

Steve shakes his head, "You'll interrogate him? Uh-Uh, I don't think so-"

"Relax, Cap," Clint says, grinning. "I got this."

>>>

 

The heavy thumping of the Captain's fists against the stiff punching bag echoes throughout the empty gym. Anger pushes through every nerve.

"You looking to spar?"

Steve stops short and turns to face the source of the playful voice. His mouth pops open in surprise. There, in the doorway, is the Black Widow. She's wearing a long, black dress that has a tear straight up the side of her leg. One strap is broken, and hangs loosely against her skin. Her red hair is slicked back, revealing her sharp cheekbones as she smiles at him. But the most prominent feature that he notices is the bruise forming under her left eye.

"You look like you've sparred with someone already." Steve says, taking in her appearance.

Natasha walks up to him. "That's never stopped me before."

When she is directly in front of him, Steve realizes that she looks happy to see him. Her smile is genuine, and her posture is relaxed. He reaches up to brush the site of her bruise with his fingers.

"Should I ask?"

Her grin falters briefly, "No. Now, do you want to spar or not? You look like you need it." She kicks off her heels and assumes her position.

Steve hesitates. "I'm not going to fight you when you're injured."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "I'm not injured, Cap, I just took one in the eye. Otherwise I'm fine." He still looks unconvinced. "You're just afraid that I'll beat you again, and you'll be embarrassed that an 'injured' girl beat you-"

"You know that's not it, Nat," Steve says seriously.

And she does. She always knows, and frowns. "Steve," She sighs heavily. "I've fought you with more bruises than this, I've just covered them up. I'll be fine-"

"That really doesn't make me feel any better," Steve says, stepping away from her. Before he can say anything else, she lunges at him. Her muscled arms and legs wrap around him tightly. Instinctually, he grabs her by the arms and tries to pull her off.

He twists her around so that she falls off onto her feet in front of him. She swiftly slithers back to him, delivering a quick, hard kick to his shins. His knees buckle and he falls forward. Natasha rolls out of the way and climbs back onto his back. Competitive spirit erupting inside of him, Steve refuses to lose. He stands up with her dangling behind him like an unusually attractive backpack. Her arms embrace his head almost sweetly until he feels that he is losing air. Steve elbows her in the gut.

Natasha moves her cobra-like grip onto his shoulders and her legs dig into his sides. She sways, giving him a hard time keeping his balance. They wrestle like that until they both are on the ground. Now all there is to do is to pin the other down for five seconds.

Her upper arms are held tightly by Steve, but her legs stop him from putting all of his weight on her. He has to admire how she never lets her size be her weakness. That's why he always enjoys fighting her. She is as determined and skilled as he is, but has a completely different fighting style that throws him off. They reach a standstill when he flattens her to the floor.

Natasha lets out a hearty laugh, resting her head back onto the mat.

"One. . .two. . .three. . ." Steve breathes.

Her mouth is pressed against his ear, his cheek brushing hers. As he counts, puffs of his breath hit her neck.

"Four. . .FIVE!"

Her body slumps when her five seconds pass. "You got me, Cap. Good job." She grins brightly and pats him on the back.

"Why are you smiling?" He asks as he climbs off of her and helps her up.

She gives him a pointed look, "Tell me you don't feel better."

Steve hadn't realized how much time had passed. It had been almost forty-five minutes since she arrived. The only sign of how long they'd been fighting is the layer of sweat on both of their bodies. His rage had evaporated. The pressure in his chest is gone.

"I think I actually made your dress look worse than it did when you came in," Steve chuckles, gesturing to the newly added tears in the fabric.

She glances down at herself and giggles. "This dress has seen too much," she says as she picks up her heels, which were pushed aside in the scuffle.

Steve furrows his brows at that, "How much have you seen, Nat?"

Her face is frustratingly blank when she says, "Enough."

"You see, it's vague answers like that that tell me you don't trust me."

The Black Widow looks truly offended, "I trust you, Steve. As much as I trust Clint."

Steve shakes his head. "No you don't. Look, you can keep as many secrets as you want. I respect that. Your past is yours. Forget I asked. But, just promise that you won't lie to me," Steve says, his eyes watching her gravely.

"I can't do that, Steve." She says, not meeting his eyes. "You should know by now that-"

"Why? Because of your job? Because you think I'll judge you?"

"Yes." She spins around to face him directly, eyes flashing fire. "I promise you that you will hate me if I told you everything."

"You don't know that." Steve shakes his head. "Let me be your friend, Natasha."

"Really? Friendship, that's what you want?" She scoffs. "What's wrong with what we have already? You treat me like I'm just something to be dealt with and I understand. You're the great Captain, and I take care of the dirty work. I'm fine with that because we work well together. You only talk to me about business except for when I force you to talk about yourself, and I'm fine with that. But you and I both know that friendship between us would not have happened if we hadn't been assigned to work together. See, you are an eagle and I am a vulture. It just doesn't work. And I can't take you looking at me like I'm a monster."

"I wouldn't. I respect you, and I know who you are now. Stop acting like I'm perfect because I'm not. I won't judge you-"

"Fine." She says, green eyes shining. Steve wonders if she's really crying or if she's trying to guilt him. "I'll tell you right now that I've killed more people than you can count. Good people." Her face is empty. The only giveaway is the depth in her eyes, containing more memories than Steve can imagine in one so young. "Violently. Shamefully. They had families and friends that loved them, and I killed them too. Is that truth enough for you?"

Steve winces, but maintains eye contact, "Nat, I just want you to trust me enough to tell me things. I can't have you lying to me, we're a team."

Natasha's widen and she almost looks hurt, "I knew this had to be about Barnes."

There is a long silence and Steve doesn't deny it.

"Tell me what Bucky was talking about in the alley." Steve finally says quietly.

She just looks at him and shakes her head. "Look, Captain," Steve frowns at her sudden formality. "If you really do trust me like you say you do, you'll know that I would have told you if you needed to know."

Natasha gives him one last unreadable stare before turning to leave him.

>>>

 

When Bucky wakes up the pressure in his chest seems to be gone. He breathes deeply. The cool air flowing into his lungs feels like fresh water in a dry desert. He hears a shuffling next to him.

"How are you feeling?"

Alarmed, Bucky jumps up out of bed and crashes to the floor. He hears his arm ring loudly as it hits the tile.

"Easy," the man says gently. "My name is Dr. Banner. Do you remember me? We were introduced before." After calming down, Bucky sits back into the bed, confusion on his face.

Banner. Vague memories swim in the back of his mind. A red cape. . . Red, white, and blue. . . Green. . .a needle.

He tries to focus on the most familiar image. A man with sandy hair and blue eyes. There is a white star on his chest. Steve. His name is Steve. He remembers growing up with him. He has a big heart. That's what he remembers the most strongly.

The man who'd identified himself as a doctor sits silently as Bucky thinks.

"Who am I?" He asks him.

"Your name is James Buchanon Barnes." He answers slowly, "But your friends call you Bucky." Banner waits patiently for his reaction.

Bucky flinches. Instantly, several moments of his childhood up to adulthood overwhelm his inner eye. They are flashing by at lightning speed, filling his head to its brink. His eyes water and his breathing shallows. His chest aches as he thinks of his best friend. Of all the people that he'd killed. Of how many years that had passed. Of all the things he'd done.

"Please," he says. "I need to talk to Steve."

>>>

 

Natasha is gone the next day. Clint says that she has more business to deal with, and Steve feels a little guilty. She's always been his friend. Whether it's real or fake, he doesn't know, but last night he'd interrogated her on private matters for the sole purpose of finding out more about Bucky. He'd forced her to admit something that he knows she is deeply ashamed of.

She used to joke with him that he is the only gentleman left on the planet. Now, he's sure that she doesn't believe that anymore. He's supposed to be a leader, and he'd violated the respect that she had for him. Steve is beginning to wonder if Bucky would agree with how he'd been behaving in order to save him. The more he thinks about it the more frustrated he becomes.

Steve dedicates his time to the gym in solace. It isn't until Bruce comes barging into the gym one week later that he stops kicking himself.

"He's conscious and he seems lucid." Banner explains. "We'll have to see how he reacts to you before we decide if he's well enough to get out of that room."

They hurry to the medical wing to find Tony already there, standing with his arms crossed, watching Bucky cautiously, who is sitting on the bed in what looks like one of Tony's Led Zeppelin t-shirts and jeans.

"Hey, Cap. Barnes, this is Steve, you might remember him." Stark says, gesturing towards him in the doorway.

Bucky's eyes are clear as they settle on Steve. He looks slightly pale, but ridden of any desire to inflict harm on him. "Steve?" His eyebrows pull upward at the middle and he smiles nervously. "I don't know what to-"

But Steve had already run to squeeze his best friend into a tight hug. "God, I've missed you, Bucky."

He sighs shakily, "I've done bad, Steve." His voice breaks, "Really bad. I'm so sorry."

"They made you do it," Steve says as Bruce and Tony seem to agree to leave the room, Tony satisfied that Bucky isn't about to strangle anybody.

"It still feels so. . .so ugly." Bucky says. When Steve sits next to him, he sees that his face is pained. "I want to fix this, Steve. I know I can't completely, but I want to try."

Steve sees in him the same thing he'd seen in Natasha just a week ago when they last spoke. The same helpless shame. The same well concealed self-loathing bubbling subtly underneath the skin.

"I'll help you through it, Bucky," Steve says, glad to be able to call him that rightfully. "And you can get your life back. There's a lot to catch up on."

"There's so much that I've done, Steve." He says. "I feel like my brain could snap at any moment. I'm afraid that I'll lose myself again." His hands are fisted in his lap.

"I'm just glad you're alive," Steve says, a mollified smile on his lips. "I don't care what you've done, you're still my best friend. I'd do anything for you."

"Same old Steve," Bucky says with a wry grin. His blue eyes are sad. "I've missed you. You and your perfect self."

Steve chuckles. "What about you? You still as keen on the dames as I remember?"

"Not much time for that these days, I'm afraid." He shakes his head, laughing as lightly as he is capable considering the circumstances.

"I'll have you read some files. Catch you up on some stuff you missed." Steve says with an encouraging smile.

"Is that what you did?" Bucky asks. "Dr. Banner told me you were out up until a couple years ago."

Steve nods. "It was hard. Nothing was familiar. But these people," he gestures toward the door, where Tony and Bruce were. "They helped me. Strangely enough, they fit in about as much as the two of us. There's even someone that understood what I was going through, technology-wise. Granted, he was an alien. . ." He stops when he notices Bucky's look of shock. "Too soon?"

"For space aliens? Maybe."

"Well, after a while things'll stop surprising you." Steve says. "So. . .do you want to talk? About what you remember?" Steve can't imagine all that Bucky had seen in his ninety years. Steve almost feels lucky to have been asleep. Almost.

He shakes his head. "I don't think that will help, Steve. Most of the people I need atonement from are already gone." He closes his eyes. "It's almost like I was sleepwalking. But I remember trying to kill you. And her."

"Yeah, you tried a few times." Steve breathes a laugh. "You must've run out of gas or something, because nothing stuck."

An agonized expression overcomes his features. "I can't stop thinking about what I've done. I-I don't think it'll ever be okay for me."

"It will pass, Bucky. There are people here who will understand you-"

"I want to talk to her, Steve."

Steve feels a sudden pull in his chest. "Who?"

"You know who, Steve." Bucky says.

There is a long pause. "You mean Agent Romanoff?"

"I mean the Black Widow." Bucky says. His messy brown hair is combed back now, revealing his familiar face. The face that Steve had grown up with that is now over ninety years old, same as him. Both of which now somehow exceed the youthful nature of their features by the wisdom in their eyes.

"Is there a difference?" Steve asks, looking down. But he knows there is. He just wants to know how Bucky knows that. A small uncomfortable feeling hits him at the thought of Bucky and Natasha having some sort of history that they're keeping from him.

"I only knew the Black Widow." Bucky says.

"She's working right now." Steve responds, frowning. Just as he's about to question Bucky further, Tony bumps the door open ostentatiously.

"Sorry, just making sure you're not dead, Rogers."

"I can handle myself, Stark." Steve says irritably. "How about some tact?"

"That's the second time you've said you can handle yourself, and the second time I will restrain myself from making an inappropriate joke about it," Tony says, striding into the hospital wing. "And I'm just checking on you, Cap, so you can stop figuratively wagging your finger at me like some self-righteous grandpa."

"You're Howard's kid," Bucky says. "You look-"

"Just like him, I know. And really? Kid? I've got a beard for God's sakes." Tony says, seating himself on a chair. "Could I just ask a few things about the arm?"

"Stark, now's not the best time," Steve points out as Bucky witnesses their usual display of banter. "I appreciate you checking on me, but maybe later."

"Well, there's another reason I'm here, but I guess you don't want to knooooww. . ." He sings, dramatically making his way to the door in slow motion.

Steve huffs and grumbles some things under his breath before asking, "What is it, Stark?"

He whips out his cell phone, "Red called asking for you. Said it was important."

"She called you?"

"Yes, that's generally the case when we're referring to communication via telephone."

Confused, Steve takes the phone and stands. "This is Rogers." Bucky is watching very closely as Tony's haughty expression fades into one of poorly concealed concern.

 

>>>

Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve as he paces the room with the device pressed to his ear. His jaw is rigid as he speaks, "Where are you?" There is a pause. "Fine. Don't tell me. Can you at least tell me if you're close? . . .Yes he's awake." Steve gives Bucky a small smile. Bucky's heart beats faster at the faint murmuring of a feminine voice on the other end. He prays that Steve won't hate him when the truth comes out.

"Nat-" he breaks off with gritted teeth as more muffled words interrupt him. "You can't keep running from me, Natasha." He finally says so softly that Bucky and Tony almost don't catch it.

Tony lets out a low whistle, earning him a glare from Steve. "Looks like Mr. Perfect has become not so perfect to somebody." He mutters to Bucky.

Bucky lowers his eyebrows. He hadn't thought about whether or not Steve and the Black Widow were close. He knows they are co-workers, but he'd never paused to consider what kind of relationship they had. He briefly wonders if they are in a romantic relationship. That idea frightens him. Steve will definitely hate him if that is the case.

He listens as his best friend talks tensely with the Black Widow. Steve is completely professional as always, causing Bucky to remember how focused he was when they'd been army buddies. Everything Steve does is for the sake of the world's well being. Never does he put himself first.

Then there is a moment where Steve freezes suddenly, unidentifiable emotions quickly passing across his features.

"Wait-Natasha-WAIT! DAMN IT!" He chucks the phone against the bed. It makes a soft thump and bounces impressively.

"Is she in trouble, Cap?" Tony asks, all pretense of nonchalance thrown away and decidedly useless. "What did she say?

"She apologized for a fight we had." Steve says, a hand covering his eyes, as if the light is something he can't take right now. "Then she said that she-that she. . ." He trails off distantly.

"That she what, Steve?" Bucky asks, removing himself from the overused bed at this point.

"She said that she would always consider me a great friend and that she lo-" he cuts himself off again and takes a deep, uneven breath. "She said goodbye."

"No," Tony shakes his head. "No."

"That's what she said, Stark," Steve says. Then he turns and wrenches the hospital door open, speeding through it. Both Tony and Bucky hurry to follow him. "Where's Barton?!" Steve demands, still attempting to salvage his professional demeanor.

"In his nest, most likely," Tony replies. Steve bounds in that direction with the other two close behind. When they finally find Clint, he is with Thor and Bruce in the living room. They are laughing over something Bruce had said.

"Barton!" Steve calls sharply.

Clint raises his eyebrows at the unfamiliar tone in Steve's voice. "What's up?"

"Agent Romanoff has informed me that we will not be seeing her for a long time. Do you have any idea why that is?" Steve's body is stiff.

Clint's eyes widens minutely and he glances between Tony and Bucky. "I was hoping this wouldn't happen."

"What?"

"She told me not to tell anyone, but this is for her own damn sake," Clint mutters. He sighs and looks up at all of them. "Nat's been trying to bury things for a long time. But when he showed up," Clint gestures in Bucky's direction. "Things started to dig back up."

"So where is she?" Steve asks.

"I'm getting there," he says. "What you need to know is that she isn't a stranger to the whole electric chair and drugs and brainwashing. She tried to track down these people who did this to Bucky. I'm guessing she found them."

"Why didn't she bring help?!"

"You already know the answer to that."

"Did she tell you where?"

"No!" Clint yells in frustration. "No, she didn't. I should have done something, I know I should've done somethin-"

"We all should've done something," Steve says. "But she would have never let us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	4. Green and Grey

Natasha knows what she's doing.

She knows what the hell she's doing, damnit.

Her eyes burn after she'd hung up the phone. Oh, Steve. Sometimes she really feels like garbage next to him despite his flaws. He's probably pissed at her right now for that phone call, but she had to say goodbye. And the truth about how she felt about him. Well, at least most of the truth. She hadn't even tried to see or speak to Clint because he would've known immediately something was wrong. At least Steve was still in the dark about her whole situation. She'd made sure of that.

Before she can change her mind, she lets out a breath and steps toward the building. It's not the same one as before but it smells the same. That same sickening smell of the drug they'd administered.

Her heart beats faster.

She remembers blood. Hers.

Staring at her own broken leg.

The bruised face of another girl.

Not feeling a thing when she first saw the soul leave someone's eyes.

The day that the tears stopped coming.

STOP.

Natasha blinks. If she survives today it would be a miracle and she knows it. And being back here with all the memories. . . her ever steady confidence in her mission slowly dwindles to that lone fiber of her being that wants her to live.

At least she'd heard his voice, even if he was shouting at her. She laughs to herself and suddenly all the cold fear leaves her body. Only Steve can shout like that and still sound nice as hell.

Damn, she's turning soft, and she'll never tell anyone this, but she's thinking of Steve. Steve and his goofy, shy smile. The way his shield always immediately moves in front of her in battle. That time when he'd been sending her guilty looks all day long, and when she'd asked him why he'd admitted it was because he'd found a pair of her underwear that she left in the washer and he was too embarrassed to give it back. She'd laughed for hours. She'd miss him, even if things had been tense recently. She'd miss the warmth of his heart.

Natasha thinks those thoughts as she enters the building.

And she knows that she'll take them with her to the very end.

>>>

Hawkeye's fist lands on General Parks's face with a hearty crack, knuckles colliding with cheekbone. The general grunts, gritting his teeth.

"I'm going to ask you again," Clint demands, stretching his fingers in a leisurely manner. "Where is agent Romanoff?"

Parks laughs, his shoulders shaking awkwardly. Steve does not like the sight. "Agent Romanoff?" Parks asks with a wide grin. "There is no agent Romanoff!"

"You know who we're talking about," Steve intervenes just as Clint pulls back his fist for a second punch. "The Black Widow."

"The Black Widow just crawled back to the sticky web she came from," Parks says with a smirk. "I think you know where that is, Agent Barton." Steve notices Clint's jaw tighten. Parks chuckles. "Yes, you do. You know you do. And you know that getting her back is impossible."

"Clint?" Steve says.

But Hawkeye is too enraged to hear. His fists are shaking.

"You two can chase after her all you want, but it'll only end in death for you both," the general continues, shifting in his seat casually. His eyes poke at Clint crudely.

Clint turns around, facing the wall, while Steve frantically tries to put two and two together.

Natasha came from Russia. That much he knew. She was a spy for the KGB. She'd been an assassin. A good, bad one. Then she'd defected to the United States.

Then what?

"Clint, what is it?" he demands.

Clint frowns, thinking deeply as Parks carries on, much to their displeasure. "And is she worth it, really? I mean, the sheer number that she's murdered-"

"Shut up," Steve snaps.

Parks shrugs.

"The Red Room is gone," Clint says with a determined expression. "It's been gone for years."

"Well, I gave you my answer, Agent," Parks says, his face stained red. "It is what it is and punching me won't change it."

Gritting his teeth, Clint snatches Steve's arm and pulls him out of the cell.

"What's going on, Clint?" Steve asks as the door shuts behind them.

"What do you know about the Red Room?"

"Um. . . it's red?"

Clint rolls his eyes. "Years ago- while you were sleeping, I guess- there was an old program run by the KGB. It was coined the Red Room. Their objective was to take young girls with potential and train them to be spies."

"Natasha was one of those girls," Steve concludes.

Clint nods. "But the program was taken down."

"Or so you thought?"

"Or so we thought."

Steve thinks for a moment. "What about any of its founders? Are they all still around?"

"You mean are they alive?" Clint shakes his head and sighs. "Not that I know."

"Well, there has to be. If Natasha's there now, there must be a reason. She wouldn't just go there to reminisce about old times." Steve says in exasperation.

Clint's phone blares some song Steve doesn't recognize.

"What?" Clint answers shortly. There is an indistinct reply. "We'll be right there." He hangs up and looks at Steve. "Tony's got something."

>>>

Cold water hits her face like icy needles.

Natasha groans.

Her arms are chained together to the ceiling, her body dangling just slightly above the ground. She can already feel that both of her shoulders are dislocated.

Her black suit is soaked and her crimson hair drips. But it's okay. She's used to cold.

"Being stubborn is pointless, Natalia," the disgustingly familiar voice says from beside her. "We will take as much time as we need to re-condition you, and if you want, we will make it painful."

She sways silently. Just think of Steve, just think of Steve-

"Do I need to remind you of our agreement?" he asks. She doesn't respond. "Do I?"

Her lips part and she croaks, "No."

His face is the same as it had always been. He smiles at her. "Good."

And all Natasha thinks is that he doesn't know what's good. Not really. And she almost feels bad for him.

Almost.

>>>

Tony's mustached mouth twitches in excitement as he watches Steve and Clint. Steve thinks that he looks just a little bit crazy, like he had that time Bruce/the Hulk let him test out a bunch of weapons on him. Tony'd been giggling like a little girl when Clint's arrows had just bounced off his green chest. The rest of the team was just surprised that the Hulk hadn't tried to kill him.

This time Steve guesses that the cause for Tony's excitement has to do with Natasha.

"What d'you have for us, Tony?" Clint asks.

"You guys are aware that I put trackers in all of you, correct?" Tony starts.

Steve shouts, "No!" just as Clint nods, "Yes."

"Well, I knew that Katniss here and Nat would immediately dispose of theirs-"

"Hold on second, when did you do this?" Steve demands, feeling slightly violated.

"While you were sleeping," Tony says quickly, waving it off.

Steve looks horrified at the image of Tony hovering over him late at night, medical tools in hand, as Clint merely gestures for him to go on.

"So I put an extra one in our little Russian spy as a precaution- somewhere untraceable- and I'll tell you that it was a pain in the ass getting that thing in there without killing her-"

Steve starts at that, "Wait, wha-?"

"-but the only problem is that it can only be tracked if it's turned on from her end."

"What? What's the point in that if she doesn't know about it?" Clint says.

"I designed it specifically for emergencies. So it's turned on once it senses an emergency."

"How does it do that?" Steve asks impatiently. Natasha's been gone for at least four days now. That's much too long in Steve's book.

Tony grimaces. "It senses the hormone that is released when she is in a severe amount of pain. Not just a little paper cut, or cramps or whatever. I mean extreme physical pain." He pulls up a monitor displaying a map with an angry, blinking red dot. "Unfortunately, she's got a bit of a high tolerance for it, so it took a while to get a signal. It started early this morning and it's been going on and off ever since. It took me a few hours, but I finally got her exact location."

Steve stares at the map. "That's in the middle of the Ukraine."

"Yeah, no shit," Tony says with a tired smile. "I've been at this for hours."

"Well, she's in pain," Steve says. "We have to go now."

The door opens, revealing Thor, who looks as if he'd just gotten his hair blow dried.

"I will aid in her rescue as well, Captain," he says.

"I thought you had a Loki thing?" Tony asks, handing Clint a file on the location.

"I am no longer having the thing in which you speak," Thor says deeply, and much more dramatically than necessary. "It would be my pleasure to assist you."

"Great," Steve says. "Then, let's go-"

The door opens again, and this time they see Bucky coming at them with an urgency.

"I know I should have told you sooner," he says nervously. Tony, Clint, and Thor glance back and forth between the old friends. Steve raises his eyebrows expectantly. He'd been uncertain on what exactly Bucky remembered from his near seventy years of existence. He hadn't exactly been forthcoming about it, and Steve didn't press him. "But I know where she went."

"Too late, buddy," Tony says. "We got that a while ago."

"I'm sure you have the location of the building by now," Bucky says. "But you don't know what you're walking into."

"And what is that?" Clint asks.

Bucky shifts from foot to foot and looks at Steve. "Well, you already know by now that ever since you became Captain America people have been trying to recreate you."

"Yeah, you can ask Dr. Banner about that," Clint nods.

"Well, Dr. Banner isn't the only victim," Bucky continues. "The whole idea of the Red Room was the KGB's attempt at replicating the serum they used on you. It was founded not long after you got iced."

"This is oddly specific information," Tony says, looking suspicious.

Ignoring that comment and deciding to ponder it later, Steve encourages Bucky to keep going.

"The program hasn't ever been very successful. At least not as much as they'd hoped. The girls would turn out far superior to normal spies, but it just wasn't enough. well, it wasn't until N-" He cuts himself off and makes an uncomfortably disturbed face before continuing, "-until Natasha."

"She's like me?" Steve asks incredulously.

"No, no, no, not anywhere near your physical caliber, but she exceeded all the others by far. She had something that the others didn't and it bugged the hell out of them. Nothing worked after her. They restarted a similar program recently, so they must have found something," Bucky hurries on, looking like he already regrets saying as much as he has.

"So what is it that we need to know to rescue her?" Thor asks.

"Those people know as much as they can possibly imagine about you. They've studied you their entire lives. They know your weaknesses," He pauses, thinking. "And if they've got Natasha because she went there voluntarily, chances are she's way past compromised."

"I'll handle that," Steve says. The team looks at him. "I can take care of her, don't worry about that."

Clint looks skeptical.

"So what's your plan?" Bucky asks.

"Bust in there, guns blazing,' Clint says simply.

Bucky shakes his head. "Not if you don't want an army of spies after you."

"Widows?"

"No. They don't do that anymore. They're very selective with their new recruits."

"Were you a part of it?" Thor asks. They all look at him in surprise. "Were you a part of this?"

"What?" Bucky says.

"You are speaking as if you have personal experience on the matter," Thor explains.

"Look, any possible involvement on my part is not the point," Bucky says hastily.

"I think Fabio has an excellent point, actually," Tony says. Steve stays silent.

"If you don't want my advice, fine," He says angrily. "But I'm telling you right now, you can't surprise them. You'll have to use their own tactics against them."

"Out-spy an army of spies?" Tony says with a smirk. "Sounds like a fun time."

>>>

Seeing Tony in a nurse's dress is now one of he highlights of Steve's twenty-first century experience. They'd drawn straws to see who would have to do it. Thor had actually lost, but they'd all agreed that putting Thor in a dress would do them no good.

"Does it make me look fat?" Tony jokes as he fidgets with the hem, pulling it down to a more comfortable length on a male. They're in the back of a van several blocks from the Red Room. The vehicle rolls along unsteadily as Thor attempts to maneuver it. Clint sits next to him in the passenger's seat, clutching the armrest for dear life.

"It makes you look very pretty, Stark, don't worry," Steve snorts.

"Gee, thanks, stud, you really know how to sweet talk a woman," Tony exaggerates a wink in his direction before Clint rolls his eyes.

"Alright, no more flirting," he calls back to them. "We're almost to the checkpoint."

The van protests loudly as it scrapes against several tree branches.

"I do not understand why Midgardians enjoy this mode of transportation, it is much too temperamental," Thor says conversationally as he twists the wheel violently left and right. "It does not wish to obey me." He frowns grumpily.

"Yeah, whose fault is that?" Clint mutters. "Remind me never to let you drive again."

They finally stop at the checkpoint, Clint on the verge of throwing up. Tony puts on his mask, causing him to resemble a much older woman whose face they'd stolen from a day of spying on the employees that walk in and out of the facility. They'd followed this particular woman home and made sure she stayed out of their way. In other words, they'd drugged her up.

"Okay, as soon as Tony gets in, we move, got it?" Steve says, his leader switch immediately turning on. They all make sounds of agreement. Steve turns to Tony, "And I know that subtlety isn't really our thing, but-"

"I know, I know, I've got this Cap," Tony says. It's a little disturbing hearing his sharp, distinct speech pattern through a woman's face and voice. "We got this."

Steve takes a deep breath in and out and nods. "Okay, you're up, Tony."

Without a single ounce of hesitation, Tony hops out of the van and struts nonchalantly down the block toward the doomed building. The area is wooded and nearly empty in the night.

"Make sure his suit's ready," Steve says. Clint quickly retrieves the case containing Iron man and opens it.

They watch silently as Tony used their stolen ID card to open the front door. Steve hears an owl hoot and crickets chirp. Through his earpiece, Steve hears Tony murmur the voice activation code. One agonizing second passes before the door pops open with a click.

"Alright, move, move, move!" Steve says, and they each take their designated positions outside of the medical gate.

Tony passes through the doors and he disappears.

"Holy shit," he says under his breath.

"What? What is it?" Steve asks.

"They're all asleep. . . all these girls look so young."

"Do you see Nat?" Clint asks.

"No," there is silence as he travels to the medical wing. "Okay, no one's here. . . the camera is now off. . I'm about to open the gate."

After a moment, the gate jerks open. The three men run stealthily in. Clint and Tony do a quick high-five before returning to the business at hand.

"From what I saw, there are only two places that she could be," Tony whispers quickly. "I passed through the living quarters and there was no sign of her. So she's either in the conditioning lab or training room. My money's on the conditioning lab."

They jog down the hall, keeping their sounds scarce. The men keep a considerable distance behind Tony in anticipation of them running into someone. In that case, Tony would be virtually fine because of his disguise and he would use one of his gadgets to hide them. How, he didn't tell them. It's a surprise, he'd said. Steve is only thinking now that it wasn't such a good idea not to question him. Too late now.

"Hey, what are you doing here?!" a voice shouts.

They freeze.

Click. Steve sees Tony press something on his ring. He keeps his hands behind his back.

"Oh, hello," he says to the woman who'd spotted him. "I came to check on a patient."

"It's late," she says shortly. Her eyes are a pale gray and her blonde hair is long and straight. She seems to see right through them when she glances around.

"I am aware," Tony replies calmly. Steve sees a small light blinking on his ring.

"Which one is it?"

"Romanoff."

"Romanova," the woman says distastefully.

"Where can I find her?"

"That one is foolish. She betrayed us, and isn't worth your time."

Tony's foot starts tapping. "Yes, but where is she?"

"In the conditioning wing, where else?" she laughs coldly. "They're giving her a hard time, no doubt."

"Okay, thank you," Tony says, quickly sidestepping around her with the others in tow. The little blinking light is faster now.

"Wait, you cannot go to her now, it will disrupt the process," the woman says, grabbing Tony's shoulder. He wiggles away from her grasp.

"I won't disrupt anything, I'll only take a quick look," Tony tries. The light is flashing rapidly now in warning. Behind his back, Tony wildly gestures for them to run.

But it's too late. The ring makes a soft, but somewhat dissatisfied sound and Thor, Clint, and Steve Blink back into sight.

The woman takes a moment, and the shock just barely registers on her face before she's shouting, "INTRUDERS! INTRUDERS!"

It doesn't take long for the alarms to sound and they start running. Soon young women come from all directions, looking completely rabid. Two latch onto Thor and he stumbles about, trying to get them to release him.

Clint fares better, swiftly and efficiently knocking them out one by one, even though he is struck in the face several times. Meanwhile, Tony rips off his mask and dress, then presses another button on his bracelet. Within seconds he slams into his own armor. Steve tries to be as polite as possible, but fails when he punches one right in the face.

He feels the scratches of dozens of fingernails and the grips of many legs and arms. All of which feel familiar, but none have the same passion that Natasha always had. The way her green eyes would flash dangerously and her strong hands would hold him tight, and he'd truly believe that she wouldn't let go. There was just something different about her.

When they finally reach the lab, there's a trail of unconscious women in their wake.

"Damn, these girls are tough," Tony comments.

"I, too, find that these women are rather like the warriors of my planet. Only much more merciless," Thor says, rubbing a spot where a girl had stabbed him in the shoulder.

"But they're no Natasha," Steve says, smashing his shield into the lab door.

"You got that right," Clint says.

The door opens.

More girls damnit.

Before he knows it he gets kicked in the groin and gets another heel to the face. He bashes his shield against his opponent, sending her flying. Then another one, holding a whip, roars and cracks it. He raises his shield too late and it just nicks his cheekbone. She reels it back again, but before she can strike him again, she shouts as if interrupted.

Baffled, Steve peers out from behind his shield. The Captain's shallow breaths beat against the back of it.

There she is. She'd stopped that woman.

Natasha's standing, staring at him with wide eyes. There's blood on her face. Whether it belongs to her or the woman lying at her feet, he doesn't know. She looks almost afraid.

Steve knows that he probably should run to her. Comfort her. Tell her he'll save her. But instead indignant rage shoots heat to his head as he stomps towards her. "What the hell ever happened to 'I'd tell you if you needed to know'?!" He yells.

She doesn't reply. Her face is that frustratingly blank screen. That screen that simulates emotion just faintly enough to be picked up, but not quite enough to be decided as genuine or fake.

"WELL, I'M PRETTY SURE THIS IS SOMETHING THAT I NEEDED TO KNOW, NAT!" He shouts waving his hands about hysterically while Thor, Clint, and Tony attack behind him, taking down their opponents. Steve looks like he would very much like to seize her by the shoulders and shake her.

At his use of her name, Natasha's eyes suddenly jolt. "Wow, Cap, I don't think I've ever seen you blow your lid like this before."

Steve looks incredulous. "Really? That's all you have to say to me after you called me like that and left things the way they were?"

"You weren't supposed to save me," she says.

"Well, you're welcome!"

"Don't get sassy with me, Rogers, you're messing with things that you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me! Explain what's going on here. Explain why Bucky needs to talk to you. Explain what the hell it is that this place is doing with people like you and Bucky, and why you're constantly lying to me-"

"You can't be here," she says glancing about. Then her eyes land on him in a surprising show of desperation. Steve doesn't even know by now if it is just that. A show. "I told you goodbye because it really was goodbye, Rogers. This is something you can't get caught in. Not you."

Steve is vaguely aware of an explosion going off behind him and he turns to shield both of them. Shrapnel clatters against the shield noisily and Steve holds it steady. He hears Clint shout something. Beams of light flash from Tony's hand canon, illuminating them on and off. When Steve lowers shield, he looks back at her.

"You should know by now that I wouldn't let you go just like that, Natasha." Steve says in frustration. "It's not just me either. You have people that love you and you gotta know that. Tony and Clint busted their asses trying to find you. We're all here getting our asses beat for you. For you, Natasha. Even Bucky helped-"

"Don't talk to me about him," Natasha snaps. But her eyes shine sadly. "And I'm sorry that you all did this for me, because it'll be for nothing. I can't go back with you."

"Yes you can," Steve says. A look of utter determination flashes across his face. "And you will."

She shakes her head. "You can't make me."

"Yes. I. Can." He says firmly. His blue eyes are fiery.

For a moment she looks surprised. Then Steve whistles loudly and Thor swoops in, snatching her with one enormous arm.

"Damn you, Rogers!" Natasha shouts as Thor swings his hammer about and takes off the ground.

Steve just gives her a salute as she and the Asgardian god disappear. He smiles to himself despite the destruction around him. He'd never thought he'd feel so happy to hear a woman damn him.

>>>

Bucky hears from Bruce that the Black Widow is in the room right next to him. His heart beats faster.

"Is she. . .hurt?" Bucky asks.

"She seems pretty stable, but she hasn't let me evaluate her completely yet," Bruce says as he places Bucky's medication on his bedside table. "She can be stubborn sometimes."

I know, Bucky thinks.

There is an awkward silence as they hear muffled shouting through the wall. He could just make out Steve's deep voice barking something in aggravation. When he is finished, an equally loud but female voice counters him. They go back and forth like that until Bucky hears the most un-Steve like obscenity blurted from the man himself, followed by him wrenching a door open.

Bruce makes a face as the door slams and Bucky's door swings open violently, revealing a furious Captain America.

He steps loudly over to a nearby chair, slumps into it, sighs, then rubs his forehead.

Bucky picks up the bottle of medicine from his bedside and rattles it. "Maybe you need these more than I do."

Steve releases a shaky laugh. "What do I do with her, Bruce?"

"Maybe it's not what you do with her, but what you do for her," he offers, picking up his medical kit.

"And what does that mean?"

"Don't treat her like a soldier, Steve. She's a spy. Your version of logic won't line up with hers. She'll always have things hidden, its just her nature." He smiles. "And you've handcuffed her to her bed. I'm not a mind reader, Steve, but I can tell you she probably isn't happy about that either."

"She'll try to leave," Steve says defensively.

Bruce shrugs, "I'm only stating my opinion."

Steve doesn't reply as Bruce leaves the room.

"Do you want to know what she told me on the phone the day she left?" Steve asks Bucky.

"What?"

"She said that she loved me," Steve says, staring at the wall, as if trying to see through it to the Black Widow. "That she loved me. That's a big deal for her. And I'm too damn afraid to ask her what the hell she meant by that."

"Do you love her?" Bucky asks. He feels his stomach squeeze.

"I don't know," Steve sighs putting his face in his hands. "I don't know." He groans. "Now she just keeps telling me to let her leave."

"Did she say why?"

"She said she can't be here."

"She can't be here, or she can't be here with you?"

Steve's blue eyes look at Bucky. "I wish I could tell you, but I just don't know anymore."

They sit in silence. Both of them thinking.

Then a scream erupts from the next room.

Steve lurches up and bolts into her room with Bucky just behind him.

>>>

Steve's mind isn't working as he bursts through the doors, eyes raking the room frantically for danger. They finally settle on Natasha and widen.

Her eyes have switched from green to a pale gray. They're hard and murderous. She writhes around, attempting vainly to free herself. Her wrists are bleeding.

"Natasha, stop!" Steve shouts, moving to hold her still. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

The metal of the handcuffs clang against the bed frame as she struggles. She kicks and elbows at him. Both Steve and Bucky leap on top of her, her quick limbs difficult to restrict.

After two seconds they successfully hold her still, both of them staring down at her, each taking one side of her body.

Steve sees a look if horror in Natasha's eyes as they hit Bucky like knives. Steve feels Bucky stiffen next to him. He can't see his facial expression because it's hidden behind long brown hair.

Natasha whispers, "You."

There is a strange feeling of Deja vu as Steve looks between Natasha and Bucky, still maintaining a firm grip on his side of Natasha. The look on her face is reminiscent of Bucky's on that day in the alley.

"Come here and let me tell you something," she says. Her voice isn't her voice. Well, it is but it's empty. Not how it is when she's concealing something, but like she's dead. Her voice sounds like she's dead.

Bucky hesitates before turning so that he faces Steve, and leans his ear down to hover over her lips. She whispers something sharply.

Steve frowns in confusion when something on Bucky's face clicks. Like a switch.

"No," Steve says. "No!"

He recognizes that hard face.

Steve recognizes that face because it's the face of the Winter Soldier.


	5. Go A Little Mad

"If I should run ten thousand miles home, would you be there?"

Before My Time by Scarlett Johannsson & Joshua Bell

 

There is a split second when Steve panics. He's frozen on top of Natasha, staring at Bucky.

Come on, Rogers, get it together!

His eyes flick towards the emergency button Tony had set up in every room. This particular one is situated next to the door. It's too damn far in Steve's opinion. If he hits it, he doesn't know how long it'll take for help to arrive. Mind whirring, he scampers off of Natasha and takes three long strides, then slams the button.

Immediately alarms blare. Like a cawing bird. A very loud cawing bird.

Meanwhile Bucky had snapped Natasha's handcuffs off and she is now stretching her bloody wrists, glaring at Steve.

"Natasha, wait," he says slowly. "I don't want to hurt you."

She hops off the bed and approaches him like a predator. Steve had seen that look on her many times before. Only those times it was always directed at someone else.

Next to her Bucky scowls. His eyes are laser focused.

Steve sees the flashing red lights of the alarm before his vision is enveloped by red and black. Bucky tackles Steve to the ground, his head colliding with the tile floor with a crack. Then a metal fist crashes into his face. Steve groans, throwing a blind punch defensively. His hand strikes smoother skin, and he looks up to see Natasha with blood dripping from her lip. Acting quickly with a firm shove, Steve knocks Bucky onto his back and holds his shoulders down.

Bucky's teeth are bared in wild ferocity. He writhes and shouts.

"GET. OFF. OF. ME!" He roars, jerking in every direction possible.

Steve looks down at him sadly. "Bucky, listen to me-"

The wind is suddenly knocked out of him when Natasha lunges onto his back, causing him to snap forward. Her arms wrap around his neck and her legs clutch his waist. One of Steve's hands grab at her arms, trying to pry them away from his throat. Nails scrape skin. The other arm stays pressed against Bucky's chest, the combined weight of Steve and Natasha on top of him just barely keeping him down. Spots start to appear in Steve's vision as his airway tightens.

He growls and, with all his might, flips Natasha over, slamming her onto the floor.

Bucky takes advantage of the shift in weight to strike Steve right in the nose. Crack.

"Damnit!" Steve yells, recoiling. He is pushed off of Bucky's body.

Then Natasha's back, kicking him right in the gut.

He grunts, but grabs her leg and yanks her back to the floor. She then trips him with a sharp kick to the shin and he's sent down along with her. Unfortunately for Natasha, he lands on top of her. Steve hears the alarming snap of what is most likely one of her ribs.

Just as he is about to make sure she is okay, Bucky takes a page out of Natasha's book and uses his metal arm to try and crush Steve's throat. He feels the cold metal press his neck.

The door is thrown open, revealing both Thor and Tony. Severe confusion is in their eyes as they settle on the sight of the three of them. Tony takes one look at them and says, "You know, if you want a threesome, you should probably lock the door."

Steve elbows Bucky in the stomach, causing him to break his hold. Once Steve gets his breath back he snaps, "I swear to God, Stark-"

Bucky attacks, his fists connecting with Steve's face.

Thor takes Bucky by the shoulders and restrains him with apparent ease. Steve rolls away from Natasha and quickly backs away as Tony grabs hold of her.

Tony nods to Thor, "Take him away," he says, struggling to contain Natasha. "Nat, I will knock you out-"

SMACK. She head butts him.

"Son of a-" Tony says through his teeth, and he tightens his grip on her. Meanwhile Thor drags Bucky out, kicking and screaming. "Rogers, you need to get out of here now!"

Steve hesitates. He looks straight at Natasha, with her wild face and unrestrained aggression.

But he can't help but miss her green eyes.

. . . TWO YEARS AGO . . .

"How the hell do you do this all the time? Just sit around and wait- it's awful," Steve finally grumbles to Natasha after a long five hours in a tiny sedan in front of a supposedly suspicious warehouse. This is just the second mission that S.H.I.E.L.D had sent them on together as a team.

Natasha shifts patiently in the passenger's seat beside him and begins sarcastically, "Captain America uses the word hell? Don't let the kids hear that now-"

Steve groans loudly, "Oh, be quiet."

Natasha laughs.

Steve turns to look at her and smiles. She's sitting scrunched onto the seat, legs bent beneath her. Her hair is only slightly disheveled from the long hours, but her bright green eyes are wide awake.

"Ugh, it smells like onions," Steve continues, grinning. He hadn't known her for that long yet, but he already knows that he loves that look she gets on her face when she's annoyed. Now, Steve's a gentleman and a good soldier, but some things are too hard to resist. Especially when he's been sitting in a car for five hours. And especially when her green eyes flash in his direction like that.

"You weren't complaining when you were eating it in that burger I got you," she scoffs, turning to face the warehouse.

"Can I at least get out to stretch my legs?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No. Stop giving me that face, it won't work.'

"This is ridiculous. You're not even looking at my face."

Natasha taps her angled fingers against her knee. "We're working, and I know what your face looks like, you make it whenever you want something but you're too much of a gentleman to take it for yourself."

Steve just shakes his head at her and returns to staring at the warehouse dutifully. They fall back into silence.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Natasha asks after a few moments.

"It's on my to-do-list. Right after figuring out the internet," he says dryly.

"I'm just curious. It's a fair question."

"Why? You want the job?"

"Ha-ha. I'm just trying to get to know you, Rogers, sue me." She unfolds her legs and props them up on the dashboard, giving Steve a nice view. Her eyes are still on the outside, however.

"What about you?" he asks.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend," she says.

"You know, you're impossible sometimes."

Natasha merely shrugs, red hair brushing the tops of her shoulders. It gets quiet again.

"There," Steve points. Natasha follows his gaze to the warehouse's side entrance. The man that they'd been waiting for steps out, completely oblivious to their presence.

Steve and Natasha softly exit the car.

Steve is about to charge when Natasha snatches him by the shoulder and slams him back into the car. His body hits it with a thud. Her small fingers dig firmly into his shoulder and her green eyes are beacons beneath the shadows of the night.

"You can't just run in there like that. What were you planning on doing? Tackling him?" she hisses.

"No. Maybe. Something like that."

She glances back at the man. He's searching his pockets for keys to lock up. "These kinds of wars aren't won with muscle, Rogers."

The moon illuminates his skin as Steve's eyebrows lower in confusion, "The orders were to take him in."

"No. The orders were to find out what he's doing, then take him in. Otherwise we have no reason to keep him in custody."

"I'd rather book him now than risk letting him escape," Steve says, his eyes stuck on the target.

"Have a little faith, Rodgers," she smiles, crimson lips framing it. Her eyes appear to be on Steve, but he can tell by her posture just how split her attention is. The man is now fumbling with his wad of keys, seeming unable to find the right one.

Steve shakes his head vigorously, "You know what- this isn't even a discussion-"

"It kinda sounds like a discussion to me-"

"-because I'm in charge."

"Oh, really?" Natasha quirks an eyebrow

"Yes."

"You're in charge?"

"Yes."

"You're the boss."

"That's right. I'm the captain."

"Well, if you want to give off that impression, you might want to take the onion chunks out of your hair," she reaches up and pulls out the cause of the aroma Steve had been smelling for hours. Her fingers lightly brush his forehead. "If you were aiming for your mouth, I think you missed."

Steve sighs loudly, passing his hand through his hair, "We're going to get him now." He pushes off of the vehicle and bounds toward the man with determination. Natasha catches up to him.

As they creep towards him, Steve glances at her once and sees that she's grinning.

"What?" he hisses as they crouch down behind a trash bin. The guy finally finds his keys but he drops them.

"Nothing. I'm smiling."

"Yes, I see that, but why?" Steve says, watching as the target bends down to pick up his keys only to realize he'd lost the correct key to lock the door. "This guy's a complete mess, why are we even following him?"

"He runs America's biggest prostitution ring and is a partner to a major weapons dealer."

"Oh, right. Figures," Steve says. "So why the smiling?"

"Because you're cute," she says simply, pulling out her stun gun and bracing it in one hand.

Steve rolls his eyes, "Please don't call me that." He frowns slightly, "It's because of the onion thing, isn't it?"

"Won't be able to unsee that," she says. A car pulls up in front of the warehouse and several men, most likely the pimp's colleagues, step out and greet him.

"Damn," Steve says. He nods toward the stun gun, "You planning on getting close enough to use that?"

"Hey, you wanted us to charge guns blazing so what're we doing behind a garbage bin?" she asks, shrugging.

"Waiting to surprise them," he says, surprised by her compliance. He looks at her. Her eyes are focused on their targets, no doubt planning about seventy ways to take them down. "You ready?"

"Come on, Rodgers," Natasha says. "Don't chicken out on me now."

"Fine," Steve says, a slaphappy smile on his face. He doesn't know if it's from fatigue of from lack of action for the past five hours. Or maybe it's because she trusts him enough to do this. He braces himself to stand, seeing Natasha's limber legs readying. "Now?"

She smirks. "Now."

"Alright."

So they charge, guns blazing.

. . .PRESENT. . .

"I won't give up on you, Natasha."

Tony's arm stays tight against her, his muscles straining as Steve keeps talking. She pulls left and right. He hears Tony grumble something about stupid, stubborn popsicles just as Natasha breaks free of his hold.

Her angry grey, unfamiliar eyes meet his with hair-raising hardness. But much to everyone's surprise, she just stands in front of the Captain, not doing anything but staring. The air seems to be sucked right out of the room as her soft jaw tightens. Even Tony is silent.

"You should," is all that comes out of her mouth before the door opens. Bruce steps in and tosses Tony a syringe. He catches it and immediately sinks the needle into her skin. It takes a few moments before her legs appear to weaken and she staggers. Her eyelids flutter closed and she falls forward into Steve's arms.

 

. . .

When Bucky opens his eyes the first person he sees is Steve.

"Bucky? Is that you?" his look of concern just fuels Bucky's anger towards himself.

"I shouldn't be around you," he says. He violently throws off the blanket that's been carefully tucked around him- no doubt by Steve- and leaps out of the hospital bed.

Clink.

His arm is handcuffed to the bedframe.

"This handcuffing people to beds thing is starting to seem like a pretty common practice around here," Bucky grumbles. He raises his eyebrows at Steve expectantly, "Are you letting me out of here or should I break these?"

Steve moves to unlock the cuffs in a heartbeat. Without hesitation.

"You really worry me sometimes, Steve."

"You're not going to hurt me."

"That's what you always say."

"You didn't hurt me today."

"Oh, really?" Bucky asks skeptically, climbing out of bed.

Steve grimaces. "What do you remember?"

"Trying to help you hold down Nat. That's it. And when I can't remember how I got from there to here, I'm pretty sure I screwed something up."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Bucky. Nat used some kind of trigger word to get the Winter Soldier running again. Whatever it was, it didn't last very long. Bruce snapped you out of it pretty quick," Steve says with a smile.

There is a pause.

"What about Nat? Is she okay?"

"She's sedated," Steve says, averting his eyes. He suddenly appears very interested in the tissue box on Bucky's side table. "Why do you call her Nat?"

"What?"

"You don't call her Romanoff or the Black Widow like you did before. You're calling her Nat."

"Oh. It must have been something I picked up from you. I assumed she prefers to be called that."

"She does," Steve says.

Bucky looks at his friend. He was always so bad at hiding things from him.

"Steve, spit it out. You want to say something."

"What? There's nothing-"

"Steve. Don't even try that shit with me," Bucky says. "You're wasting your breath."

"Well, I have plenty of it," he sighs, knowing he's right. Steve looks up at him. "Will you ever tell me the truth? About what happened between you two?"

Bucky stiffens. He'd known this was coming eventually. If he ever wants to have a life that includes Steve, this laundry needs to hang out to dry soon, or he may never forgive him.

"We know-knew- each other very well," Bucky begins. He takes a deep breath and sits down onto the bed. "I've known her since she first entered the Widow program. She was just a child then."

Steve moves to sit next to him carefully, as if fearful of spooking him.

"She was very bright as a girl. Far superior to the others. At the time I suppose I'd just woken up from the freeze. They'd recruited me for some missions and I'd have to visit the Red Room for meetings," Bucky says. He then laughs softly, "Nat was some sort of alien. Never fit in with the others, you know?"

He pauses thoughtfully.

"Anyway, I'd be in and out of the freeze for years. They'd keep me frozen then just pull me out whenever they needed me," he continues. "By the time she was eighteen I'd have met her at least twice each year that she was at the Red Room."

Steve hesitates before asking, "How much time did you spend with her?"

"When they started sending her on jobs, it was a lot. She was their best and I was their best asset so they threw us together. She was a hell of a spy, Steve. Almost put me to shame. Almost." Bucky can nearly hear Steve's brain thinking and steadies himself for his next words. "I don't know how or why, but she fell in love with me. She was still a teenager and hadn't experienced love before and she chose the worst first."

For the first time Bucky sees Steve outwardly look jealous. His eyebrows furrow and the blue of his eyes sharpen, "She fell in love with you? She fell in love with you? That's ridiculous, Natasha doesn't fall in love. The only reason she told me she loved me before was because she thought she was dying. She thinks love is stupid."

"No, she doesn't. She thinks love is a vulnerability."

Steve contemplates that and seems to absorb it. It reminds Bucky of their friendship years ago, when Bucky would witness Steve discover something that burst his bubble. Like when they were nine and they'd caught the man who'd played Santa Klaus at their school with the lunch lady in the janitor's closet.

He can only imagine that Steve had forced himself for so long to believe that Natasha was incapable of love. Incapable of returning any feelings that may have stirred him when he was with her.

"Were you . . . close?" Steve asks with hesitation, as if uncertain whether or not he wants to know.

"Being the way I was then, I couldn't be anything but indifferent towards her. I was aware of her being beside me during missions. I felt how strongly she wanted to save me, but I couldn't do anything about it," Bucky says. He looks at Steve, "I'm sorry, Steve, but it's in the past now-"

"What about now? Do you love her now?" Steve demands.

"Steve, I-"

"Just answer the question."

"I guess I do, okay?"

"You guess?"

"I do," Bucky says. "I didn't know until I saw you with her. My head was still fried, but I felt something. I hadn't felt something in decades. You saved me. You both saved me."

 

Bucky sits in the chair next to her, relaxed, but eyes still trained on her slumbering figure.

It might be guilt. It might not be real love.

What the hell is real love anyway, Bucky ponders. Distinguishing between real and fabricated emotions has become so fruitless these days that his so called feelings are now just a big blob of tangled threads. It's impossible to find where one begins.

Or maybe he's just afraid he will find where one begins and it will lead right back to a place he doesn't want to go back to.

Natasha's finger twitches slightly. Bucky's eyes eagerly follow the movement, hopeful but afraid all at once.

But after waiting for several moments she goes still again, breathing deeply in and out. His eyes trace back to her hair.

He'd always loved the red. It intensifies everything about her- her green eyes, her sharp wit.

Maybe someday he'd find someone he'll love like her. Maybe this time he won't ruin it. He knows it's too late but he looks at her now and wishes to God that he hadn't ruined it the first time . . .

. . .TEN YEARS AGO. . .

"Who the hell is they? I mean, who the hell is this group of people who gets to decide what's what?"

Bucky ignores the teenage girl as his eyes focus onto the faraway man. They're on a rooftop across from the man's hotel. The man is on the phone, blabbering about some illegal plans that Bucky hadn't asked about, nor did he care about.

Next to him Natasha frowns. "The girls always say 'that's what they say', like whoever 'they' are knows what the fuck they're talking about."

Bucky continues not to say anything and checks the time. Approximately thirteen minutes until the man leaves the room to get to a meeting.

"Girls suck," Natasha says.

Exasperated, Bucky breaks the silence and says in a monotone, "Maybe you shouldn't talk to those girls if you're going to bring that shit to the mission."

"I don't talk to them," she says, somehow maintaining optimum focus on the man through his bedroom window. "They talk to me."

"Well they don't like you, so you shouldn't believe a thing they say," He snaps.

"Hey, I think I got an emotion out of you."

"Yeah, you did. Irritation."

Natasha just smirks and unzips her catsuit, leaving her in black underwear. He doesn't give her a second glance as she reaches across him into her bag and pulls out a long, equally black, dress. She slides into it, fitting it perfectly. "Ready to go."

Bucky frowns, "I didn't ask if you were." He quickly and efficiently changes into a sharp suit, carefully covering his entire arm.

She sighs, "How sad is it that the only thing I have to look forward to in my life are these missions with you?" She looks at him with a brief sadness that he just barely registers.

He doesn't reply and checks his watch. Ten minutes.

"Let's move," he says. She nods and together they make their way off the roof and down the stairs. By the time they're across the street Natasha is ahead of Bucky, grinning back at him mischievously.

Bucky's eyes meet her red lips as she mouths, "You're slow," and she winks, speeding into the high class hotel. Her heels click against the marble floor. The moment they enter the lobby, she instantly begins gushing, "Oh, darling, isn't this place just divine? Absolutely stunning!" Her smile is unnaturally bright.

"Yes," Bucky says with a level of enthusiasm that is nowhere near hers. Almost imperceptibly, Natasha shoots Bucky a rather unimpressed look.

In the corner of his eye he sees the manager approaching them with a smile. "How can I help you?" the manager asks.

"Do you mind if we take a look around? We're thinking of having our wedding here," Natasha says. Bucky just remains stoic as she practically dances around him in excitement. "Can you believe it? Me, at my age, getting married? This guy is just the biggest romantic!"

"Of course you may! Would you like a tour? I can show you the ballroom."

"No, no, we'll be fine," Natasha waves him off. "We'll be quick, I promise."

The manager nods, "Please, take all the time you need. This is an important decision."

"We will. Come on, Hon," Natasha says, tugging lightly at Bucky's arm and leading him to the elevators. Once they're in the elevator and out of earshot, Natasha rolls her eyes, "You need to work on getting into character."

"That's not my job. I'm a-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're a soldier, not a spy."

Bucky throws her only a minor contemptuous look, "I wouldn't have to repeat it so often if you'd stop expecting me to be like you."

She's silent for a moment and the elevator dings. The doors slide open.

. . .

It had been a trap.

They missed the signs. Gunfire rings throughout the entire hotel.

Bucky sees her.

She's face down on the marble. The beautiful chandelier that hung in the lobby just minutes prior is now on the floor in shambles, glittering dangerously for someone to cut themselves on. He runs to her, a faint and unfamiliar feeling tearing at him from behind his ribcage. He does not quite recognize the feeling but the more he looks at her- not knowing if she is hurt or even alive- the more he feels it.

He reaches her, guns going off all around him, the majority aimed towards them. He drags her body behind cover and is about to check her pulse when she jerks awake, nearly smacking him in the face. He releases a breath.

"Take my hand," he says, that uncomfortable feeling his heart fading with each healthy breath she takes.

The Black Widow looks up at him in disbelief. Her heels have long since abandoned her and her upscale black dress is torn at the waist. "Next are you going to say that I have to go with you if I want to live?" Bucky looks puzzled by this comment and Natasha laughs, startling him further. "If you didn't get that, I'm guessing you don't watch many movies." She takes his hand, "Get me out of here, Prince Charming."

Bucky, not entirely sure of even half of what she'd just said, grabs her and pulls her swiftly towards the exit.

. . .

Bucky carries Natasha the majority of the way to the Red Room. They'd lost any followers about two hours ago. Natasha's tired eyes peer up at him as she rests her head against his shoulder. She takes in a shaky breath, "He's going to be angry."

He looks down at her blankly. He sees fear in her eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"It doesn't matter!" she says heatedly, her small body squirming in his never tiring arms. "You've never gone back with an incomplete mission before, have you?"

He shakes his head.

"So we're getting punished. Well, at least I am. You're probably just going to get reprogrammed." She smiles stiffly. "You should probably put me down now. They won't like that you're carrying me." So he does.

He doesn't know how to feel about that. He's never had any particular response to it before. Not that he can really remember.

As they approach the entranceway, Bucky hesitates. He doesn't want to go in. He really doesn't want to go in. He looks extremely conflicted when Natasha places a hand on his cheek, her eyes watering.

"You're crying," Bucky says.

She laughs, "I am, aren't I?"

"Why?"

She bites her lip, and his heart lurches, as if he'd seen her do that before. But he has a sense that nothing good follows it.

"You're hesitating," she says with a sad smile. "You don't remember, but you've hesitated on this doorstep before. That usually means that you're starting to feel something."

"What am I feeling?" he asks, his voice soft.

She shrugs, "You tell me."

He pauses before saying, "I don't want them to hurt you."

Just saying it out loud sends a flurry of emotions crashing onto him. An intense fear and protectiveness and anger. His arm suddenly feels much heavier in his mind.

"James," she says, surprising him.

"Is that-?"

"It's your name," she nods. "James, listen to me. Promise that you won't hesitate. Do not show them anything. Do not ask any questions or they will erase you."

"What-"

"James, promise me!" she says, her eyes wide. "Please. They're going to take you away from me again. I love you. I've told you that a thousand times before, but those memories are probably gone. You're all I have in this place."

Love? A faint flutter enters his chest and stomach. Without thinking, he reaches out his metal hand to touch her face. He slides his finger under her eye, wiping away the one tear that had escaped. "Okay."

"Thank you," she says, and wills herself through the door.

Once inside, they are immediately greeted by Valentin, Natasha's "caretaker". He is a tall, thin man with a crooked nose. It is unclear how old he is, for his posture reflects youth but his face looks incredibly aged, sharp cheekbones and hollow face. His eyes shine grey and empty as he takes them in.

"Welcome home, Natasha," he says. He nods to Bucky, "Soldier."

Bucky nods back, thinking that words would not be a good idea, partly because he wouldn't trust himself not to give them away.

Valentin turns back to Natasha coldly, "You failed to complete the assignment, Natasha." There is a long pause, as if he is awaiting an explanation.

"It appears our intelligence was old-"

He strikes her across the face, hard. Bucky flinches at the impact, immediately drawing Valentin's attention. His eyes zero in on Bucky's face. "Do you have a problem, Soldier?"

Bucky remains as expressionless as he can, avoiding even looking at Natasha. "No, Dr. Volkov."

He seems to contemplate his response for a moment before saying, "Good." And he seizes Natasha by the hair and drags her closer. "What is it that we teach you here at the Red Room, Natasha?"

Bucky can see Valentin's fingers digging into her scalp and struggles not to react as she replies, "To complete the mission or die trying."

"That is correct. And do you know why that is so important?"

"Because they can trace our actions back to the Red Room."

"Right. And did you complete the mission?"

His hold on her tightens and she grits her teeth, "No."

"Did you die trying?"

"No."

Valentin throws her to the floor. Bucky's hands are in fists. He takes short steady breaths to calm himself. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Bre-

Valentin strikes her face again. Harder. There is blood. Bucky is shaking now.

"Fortunately for you, Natasha, I cannot kill you. But I will make you wish you had died trying." His kicks her in the gut. He rears back his fist, ready to hit her again when Bucky charges forward in a blind rage.

He catches Volkov's fist and pushes him back. A look of mild shock is on the doctor's face.

Bucky feels Natasha's hand take his ankle, "James, stop!"

He doesn't want to stop. He wants to beat this man until he's dead.

"Aha," Volkov says, now laughing. He whistles and three men enter the room. "He needs reprogramming."

"No!" Natasha shouts. "Please, no!" But Bucky knows it's useless as the three men begin to yank him away. He writhes, hitting one in the face. Then suddenly his left arm is free and he breaks away from the other two goons.

Volkov shakes his head in disappointment, "It's a shame, now you two can never work together again. This has already happened too many times. It's actually rather sad. You were our best team."

Ten more men enter the room, surrounding Bucky. The last of Natasha that he sees is her on the floor, crying, with Valentin Volkov standing over her.

. . .PRESENT. . .

"She's awake!"

Natasha opens her eyes and groans. Hovering above her are two sets of eyes. Both blue.

Steve sighs in relief, leaning his head against her shoulder. He smells like soap, like he'd just bathed. Next to him, Bucky steps back, dark hair framing his face.

"Don't ever do that again," Steve says, laughing.

"I'll try my best," Natasha replies hoarsely, sitting up. She blinks, looking around her. "This infirmary has been uncharacteristically active lately. And where the hell is my underwear?"

Steve looks at her with such an open affection that Natasha wonders if he'd mistaken her for someone else. "You're in the hospital, Nat, you gotta wear the hospital gown."

"Look at you, all smiling," Natasha says, taken aback, "It's almost like you're happy to see me."

Behind him, Bucky shifts uncomfortably, "Natasha, I need to talk to you." Both Steve and Natasha turn to look at him. "Do you mind, Steve?"

Steve hesitates for a moment before nodding.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him it's silent. The two left just look at each other, Natasha waiting patiently and Bucky grasping her blanket nervously.

"What is it, James?" she prompts after he opens and closes his mouth several times in uncertainty.

"You look the same," he says instead of answering her question. "I mean, a bit older but the same."

"You don't look a day older than when I saw you ten years ago."

"Right, well-"

"Ice can do that for you, I guess."

"It can."

"You shot me once, you know."

"Y-yes, I remember-"

"Oh, okay, so that you do remember."

"Natasha, please just let me-" he stops and takes a deep breath. "Let me get this out."

. . .

Steve leaves Natasha and Bucky feeling a mixture of relief and confusion. He tries to pack away the jealousy and let them be. They've both been through a lot. Together.

Together.

He sighs and practically stomps to the elevator. The doors shut and he mashes the 'living area' button. It cracks.

"Son of a-"

The doors open and in walks Tony carrying a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself. "Hey there, Cap," he says, nearly smacking Steve with his cardboard face as he turns to press the 'door close' button.

The doors close and it is immediately dead quiet. Steve can feel Tony glancing at him every so often, no doubt feeling the negative waves coming off of him. Tony opens his mouth to speak just as the doors open again. This time it's Thor.

"Hello, Anthony. Steven." He enters and looks at the lit 'living area' button. "I see that you are both destined to reach the area of living as well," he says in delight. Steve silently fumes as Tony just raises his eyebrows. "I, too, am on my way there. Clinton and I are planning on viewing the marathon of what he calls 'Lord of the Rings'." He pauses thoughtfully, "It is humorous, is it not, that the television room is called the living area? Are not all parts of the establishment areas in which we may live?"

"I'm going to find them and kill them."

Both Thor and Tony turn to Steve, who had uttered the words.

"Who're you talking about, Cap?" Tony asks.

"Whoever took Bucky and Natasha away from me," Steve says, eyes darkening.

"The first time or the second time?" Tony says, setting down his cardboard likeness.

"It doesn't matter!" he snaps. Tony and Thor look at each other. "I will kill them."

"Isn't that a little dark for you, Boy Scout?" Tony asks with a nervous laugh.

Steve just looks at them and the elevator dings, the doors sliding open. He storms out of there, leaving his two friends looking after him worriedly.


End file.
